


Those Are The Ugliest Shorts I Have Ever Seen

by Kateera



Series: All In a Summer [4]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Crushes, Fluff, M/M, a tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 17:19:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11718939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kateera/pseuds/Kateera
Summary: Oswald's mother still likes to make him clothes every once in a while, clothes he'd never let anyone else see. Oswald also has a revelation, and Jim is sweet as ever.





	Those Are The Ugliest Shorts I Have Ever Seen

**Author's Note:**

> This was almost about summer camp and I am so glad I went a different direction!  
> I still do not have a beta for this story so please forgive the mistakes.   
> Comment and kudos are my FUEL.

_ My mother loves me. My mother loves me.   _

 

Oswald mentally chanted the refrain as he picked through his meager clothing supply. His mother had pounced on him as soon as he came through the door, demanding to know where he’d been and then dragged him into a fit of organizing. She’d sent him to his room for any clothes that didn’t fit or had too many holes.. He knew they would be taken and torn apart for rags or to patch up old blankets and though logically, it made sense to use his old stuff, he hated the process. These were his things, his few possessions, and they were precious to him. He placed a few t-shirts under his mattress, deciding that they could be worn during the winter under his sweaters, even if they were too tight. Even hiding what he could, his closet looked empty after he’d followed his mother’s instructions.

 

_ It’s amazing I’m even outgrowing clothes.  _

 

“Put those in a bag when you’re done.” His mother, Gertrude, came into the room with her long skirts flowing while she fussed with something in her hands. “Now come here. I have something for you.”

 

“Oh? Should I be scared?” Oswald said, keeping his tone playful even as his heart sank. His mother had unique ideas on what constituted a gift.

 

Gertrude clucked his tongue at him before shaking out the piece of fabric and revealing the ugliest pair of shorts Oswald could imagine. They were a clash of colors, browns, blues, and greens, and she’d sewn multiple patterns together with paisley and stripes and flowers fighting for attention. It made his eyes hurt. 

 

Gertrude gave him a wide smile. “Surprise! You are always wearing black and I thought you could use a touch of color. Put these on. I want to see if they fit.”

 

“Um, no thank you, mother. I don’t like shorts.” Oswald said, backing away. His mother couldn’t see him as anything but a child and. sometimes that meant making him clothes that left his eyes bleeding.

 

Gertrude frowned and crossed her arms. “I spent my time and effort to make sure you have something comfortable to wear in the summer and you would refuse?”

 

Bowing his head and gritting his teeth, Oswald took the shorts. He could never guess how his mother would react to any negative feedback from him. Sometimes she patted his cheek and told him what a stubborn boy he was and others, well, she once threw a book at him in regards to his thanklessness.

 

“Thank you mother.” Oswald risked a smile beneath his fringe in an effort to keep her calm.

 

She nodded with a smile. “That is better. Now go on, try them on.”

 

“Here Now?”

 

She gestured for him to continue. “Yes, now. I want to see if they fit. Don’t be shy. I’m your mother andI saw you naked the day you were born.”

 

Oswald swallowed back his comment and did as he was told. Switching into the shorts as quickly as he could, Oswald looked down and shuddered at the sight of his pale legs sticking out of the horrid fabric. Gertrude clapped her hands in delight and turned him around.

 

“Perfect.” She gave him a smug look. “I have still not lost my touch.”

 

“Thank you mother,” Oswald said with a kiss to her cheek, hiding his own face, red with embarrassment.

 

“My sweet boy,” she crooned.

 

As he reached down to change back into his much more beloved black jeans, the buzzer sounded at their door and they both froze as the sound vibrated through the whole apartment. Oswald wondered who could have possibly figured out where he lived.

 

Gertrude slapped at his arm. “Well, go see who it is?”

 

He looked at her expectant face and then down at the atrocious pair of shorts and grimaced at his luck. 

 

_ Maybe it’s just a mistake, someone hitting the wrong button.  _

 

Racing out the door and down the steps, Oswald swung open the outer door and stood in shock at the sight of Jim, panting and leaning against the wall. He blinked in disbelief. 

 

“Jim! What are you doing here?” Oswald really wanted to ask how he found his apartment but thought it might be rude.

 

Jim grinned and held up a bag full of comics. “Just hit the comic store and I saw they had the new issue of Deep Souls. Wanna check it out?” Looking him up and down,, Jim gave Oswald a puzzled look. “What are you wearing?”

 

Oswald turned bright red, from the tips of his ears all the way down his throat. “Cleaning day. Mother is a bit obsessed with the idea right now. I’ll meet you in the park in a few minutes?”

 

Jim blushed a deep pink and Oswald watched the spreading color with interest He wondered if he blushed that same color everywhere.

 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Jim directed his words to the ground. “Um yeah, that works. Um, sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have come over unannounced but, I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

 

Waving his hand at Jim’s apology, Oswald flashed his brightest smile. “It’s alright. I suppose it’s only fair for all the times I’ve barged in while you’re working. I’ll just be a minute.” He bounded back up the stairs, a light fluttery feeling in his stomach at the thought of Jim being excited to see him. 

 

“Mother, Jim’s came by,” Oswald said as he entered the apartment. “We’re going to hang out at the park for a bit alright?”

 

His mother was in the middle of the living room with her arms crossed, staring at their ragged old couch. 

 

“You’re not letting this Jim boy drag you into trouble now, are you?” Gertrude said with a frown. She picked up a small lace edged pillow and moved it to her chair, not looking up as she spoke. Oswald snuck by and back into his room where he changed back into his jeans and threw the offensive shorts into the back of his closet. When he came back out, she’d moved the lace pillow back and removed two large blue ones. 

 

He rolled his eyes at the strange redecorating. “Mother, Jim wouldn’t know how to get into trouble if it walked up and introduced itself.” 

 

Rushing over and giving her a peck on the cheek, Oswald hoped she wouldn’t notice the change in clothing. There was no way he could go to the park in those awful shorts but he also didn’t want to let Jim down.

 

“Be careful, my darling boy. And don’t stay out too late.” Her eyes were fixed on another possible pillow victim and Oswald slipped out the door with a sigh of relief. 

 

Jim stood by the door with his eyes scanning a comic and Oswald let the warm feeling of acceptance seep into his heart at the sight. Jim’s easy friendship was something he cherished, almost as much as his mother’s love. 

 

“Ready?” Oswald asked.

 

Jim looked up and smiled and, to Oswald, it felt like the sun shone in the middle of his dark hallway. 

 

“Ready,” Jim said, tucking his comic back into its bag. Sorry again, for ambushing you.”

 

Oswald glanced at the closed door behind him and shrugged. “It’s alright. Though I am curious to know how exactly you found out where I lived.”

 

Jim blushed again. “I uh, may have seen the address on a piece of paper in your bag.”

 

“My bag?”

 

“Yeah. That time you came over to play Need for Speed? You got a call so you left the room.”

 

Oswald held a hand to his chest in mock horror. “Oh my word! You, Jim Gordon, went snooping!” He grinned at Jim’s panicked face but the grin vanished as he imagined telling Jim about his living situation. “It’s okay, really. Not how I would have told you but, in all honesty, I probably wouldn’t have ever told you and that’s not something friends do.”

 

Jim patted him on the back. “Neither is snooping. I won’t tell a soul if you don’t want me to.”

 

Oswald swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. “I’m not ashamed, not really. It’s better than the streets you know?” He kicked at the threadbare carpet, mysterious stains making the pattern almost invisible. “I guess you don’t though, but, anyway. Thanks for not saying anything.”

 

Before Oswald could move, Jim wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tight. The hug was brief, just a few seconds, but Jim’s arms left Oswald tingling.

 

“What are friends for?” Jim asked, stepping away from him and grinning wide. “Let’s get to the park. This new comic is supposed to reveal the true identity of The Blind Eagle.”

 

Leading the way down the stairs and outside onto the street, Oswald looked back once more at the partially destroyed apartment building where his mother insisted on staying. He knew the city would get around to kicking them out one day. The building would be scheduled for demolition eventually but for now, they weren’t harming anyone by staying, and working for Mr. Gilzean meant he could keep the electricity and water flowing. 

 

“You going to keep staring or are you coming?” Jim asked, giving his sleeve a playful tug.

 

Looking at Jim, Oswald thanked his stars that he’d managed to find a friend who didn’t care about where he lived or what he wore, someone that actually cared about him. 

 

_ I want more than friendship from him.  _ Oswald thought. He paled at the realization, his stomach churning as he imagined Jim's reaction to his feelings.  _He would be very kind about breaking my heart._

 

Before Jim could ask what was wrong, Oswald swatted at his hand and took off for the park. Jim’s laughter exploded behind him and if the sound made Oswald’s heart pound and his palms sweat, he knew to keep it to himself.


End file.
